


i want candy, but you'll have to do instead

by i_make_the_best_french_toast



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, Marie Antoinette (2006)
Genre: ...mouis, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hot Chocolate, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, Not Canon Compliant, Pirates, Swords, and lastly an unhealthy obsession with clothes, but not really, god??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26540089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_make_the_best_french_toast/pseuds/i_make_the_best_french_toast
Summary: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” he sputtered. "I ate two of your potatoes! two! I tried to refrain from stealing your supplies but I couldn’t, I couldn’t—““Who are you?” Marie said, sternly.“Are you going to kill me?”Marie paused.She… didn’t quite know the answer to that question.
Relationships: Marie Antoinette/Louis XVI
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	i want candy, but you'll have to do instead

**Author's Note:**

> a marie antoinette/louis xvi... pirate au? honestly by far the weirdest combination of ideas i've ever put together and written

Louis headed for the ship tucked in the very corner of the dock. On its side, it read, the _“S.S. Carmel”_. The stone lady on the mast had her body turned towards him, seeming to beckon him over. He was an idiot not to see it earlier. He didn’t even notice it anchor. 

He wished that he could just be left behind, or forgotten, so that he could stay on land.

Because the last few days had been a splendor of luxury at his father’s estate. He had had the privilege again to do everything he couldn’t do at sea—horseback riding, attending balls, and most importantly, having hot chocolate for breakfast. He could still taste the tang of its bitterness on his tongue as he waited on the raucous dock for his father’s ship to arrive. Rarely did he savor things such as this. 

Louis ran a hand through his uncombed curls. His own hair felt more synthetic than those of the fanciful wigs he’d worn. His naval clothes scratched against his skin; the salty air didn’t help with that. 

He didn’t particularly despise going on sea, but he would never say that he enjoyed it. There was always too much noise among the crewmen, too much rocking back and forth, too many storms. And his father only wanted him on board to learn the ropes, despite knowing that his son was incompetent in the eyes of the rest of the navy. What did it matter? His family had enough wealth for Louis and his future children to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. 

Louis sighed. He reminded himself that this was where he belonged, as a naval officer in training. 

Bells along the dock rung in all directions. Hastily, he pulled out his timepiece. He was early… 

To his surprise, this part of the dock was particularly empty. His father liked to have the spot closest to the town, so it would be easier for diplomats and crew to move in and out. 

This was when he began to notice. 

There was a lack of cargo. The sails were dirtier than usual. The stone lady on his father’s ship had always faced forward, but this one had its head turned. A meal that had been rotting in the sun, sagging on the crate it was splayed across. His father would never allow such a mess. This was not his father’s ship. 

Panic began to rise in Louis’ throat. He checked his time watch, then looked back to the dock. Still no sign of the ship he belonged on. Noise could be heard from above. There were people here, working the sails. Oh no, oh no, oh no. They hollered to others down below. 

More members of the crew were walking towards the ship. The woman that led them wore a deep blue coat with an insignia that Louis’ father had seared into his brain, a symbol that could only mean pirates. 

Without more thought and only guided by the fear that seared against his chest, Louis ran below deck. 

*****

“Madame, I didn’t know you were so risquè,” Marie giggled out. Victoire snickered in return. The most wretched stories came out a couple of days into sea. The close quarters made the crew sickeningly close, but Marie relished in it. It made her feel as if she was finally becoming a proper captain. Each crewman’s story took her one step further away from her past life—the past life of middle-class boredom and parents that despised that they couldn’t bear a son. 

“Another drink, _dauphine?_ ” Victoire asked as the round of laughter quieted. Marie, leaned back and sprawled out against the crate, raised her wooden mug towards her friend. Victoire filled it to the brim with mead. It spilled over the sides.

Marie attempted to chug it down, but she hadn’t quite mastered that aspect of piracy yet. Most of the mead dribbled down her chin as Victoire made another joking remark about her. Marie laughed. 

“Another?” Victoire offered.

“No, no, _madame_. Captain duties. I need to aid Sir Woodbury with lugging up the food supply.” 

When Marie stood, she noticed the deck swirl slightly around her. She couldn’t tell if it was the rocking of the boat or the alcohol. In all honesty, she wanted the break to drown in her sorrows that they had yet to find Von Ferson’s treasure. Or any treasure, for that matter. And given that what appealed to piracy was the treasure-hunting, Marie’s mood was down. She expected this mission to be fruitless. 

She shook her head to clear away the dizziness. Victoire stepped towards her, in order to smooth out Marie’s coat and adjust her scabbard. “Okay,” she said. “Good luck, _dauphine_. I best be returning to navigation as well.”

“As your captain, I agree that you best should.” 

Victoire tipped her hat and left. 

Fuelled by the energizing conversation and mead, Marie half-skipped, half-strode below deck. When she entered, darkness enveloped her immediately, and the dampness cooled down her sun-soaked skin. 

“Aye,” Woodbury greeted her at the entrance of the storage room. He lugged a sack of potatoes over his shoulder. “Thank you for the help, _dauphine_. Get more of these sacks up, aye?”

The storage room was cramped and even more damp, saturated with the scent of barnacles and salt. Marie sighed. Perhaps she should have spent more of her funds on a better ship, rather than… fanciful captain clothes. No wonder why everyone joked that she was the Queen of France—they had to work under these less-than-ideal conditions. And her obsession with treasures and sea shanties and fashion, they surely made fun of her for that. She swore she could even hear groaning. Whether it was ghosts or the ship falling apart, Marie didn’t know. 

She couldn’t even pick up the sack of potatoes with both her hands. Grunting, she tried again, yanking harder.

It lifted, but the panicked man hiding them made her throw it across the floor. A million thoughts ran through Marie’s head.

A stranger, a stowaway, a possible danger, a… well-clothed individual? 

Even in the dark, Marie recognized the designer.

The man yelped and scurried back. On instinct, Marie unsheathed her cutlass. The man yelped again. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” he sputtered. "I ate two of your potatoes! two! I tried to refrain from stealing your supplies but I couldn’t, I couldn’t—“ 

“Who are you?” Marie said, sternly. 

“Are you going to kill me?” 

Marie paused. 

She… didn’t quite know the answer to that question.

“Yes,” she attempted to say, but she stopped herself. "I mean, no… or, well, perhaps!”

He’d scrambled all the way back so that he was pressed against the hull. In response to not having anywhere further to go, he put his hands up, panicked. “Please don’t kill me,” he whispered. 

“ _—Dauphine_?” Woodbury inquired from the doorway. 

Marie startled, but she composed herself by tugging at her coat. With her sword pointed firmly at the stranger, she looked to Woodbury and said, “we have a stowaway amongst us.”

*****

“How do you think he got on here, dauphine?” Victoire asked. The entire rest of the crew looked towards Marie, equally perplexed. “And why?”

Marie looked to her captain’s quarters, where they’d shoved him in. She was also confused. Was he supposed to be some sort of spy? If so, how would he even communicate with the navy? How did he know this was a pirate ship—Marie hadn’t caused nearly enough destruction to warrant the navy going after her. 

And above it all, he looked so… harmless. He tried not to steal food despite him starving down there for two days, for God’s sake. 

“Are we making him walk the plank, _dauphine_?” Woodbury inquired. 

"I…” she paused, turning again to the captain’s quarters. "I'll interrogate him first. Perhaps he can be of use.” 

*****

The thick, scratchy rope against Louis’ wrists felt far worse than the itchiness of his naval clothes. And the shame of getting caught made his cheeks redder than what his binds did to his skin. Louis attempted to shove away the mortifying moment of getting paraded onto the deck as all those murderous pirates sneered. 

There was some sort of bickering about not having a place to put him, as a hostage. Louis didn’t have much time to wonder what kind of pirate ship didn’t have a prisoner’s hold before they shoved him into a large bedroom filled with maps and knick-knacks—presumably captain’s quarters—and tied him to a chair. 

Since noon until sundown, he’d been left alone. Occasionally, he would see a guard shifting through the door window, but they never entered. 

His father had taught him to take these situations with grace. Outwit the pirates. Negotiate for his life—he was a captain’s son, after all, and if he couldn’t, die with honor. And such. 

It was plenty of enough time for him to get enveloped by his biting anxiety. Even his exhaustion and hunger couldn’t force him to sleep. His thoughts distracted him so much that he didn’t notice the woman that discovered him entering. 

She carried a tray of bread and ale with her, but placed it away from Louis, on a nearby bed stand. His stomach growled. 

And that’s when Louis blurted out, "I’d like to negotiate.” 

At the same time, she also blurted, “do you know anything about the Von Ferson treasure?”

They both paused, appalled. 

She could’ve been the captain, but she didn’t really look like one. She was young, maybe even his age. She wore her hair in meticulous blonde curls, and her coat and breeches were immaculate, despite being a pastel blue so light that any sort of dust could stain it. A wretched pirate, but an easy one to manipulate, his father would say. Louis couldn’t begin to comprehend how he could manipulate her, though. 

Louis immediately regretted what he said. If anything, it likely worsened his situation. An uncomfortable rush of adrenaline shot through his chest. "I don’t know anything about that.” 

“Oh.” She was obviously disappointed. “Well, then, it’s nice to meet you,” she replied, sarcastically. She stood in front of him, her unsheathed sword terribly close to brushing against Louis’ legs. “My name is Marie.” She offered her hand, before retracting it, having realized that Louis was still tied up. She seemed mortified. Even Louis felt the second-hand embarrassment.

"I'm Louis Auguste.”

Marie raised an eyebrow, stepping forward to view the insignia on his coat. With a quick motion, she plucked it off. Louis jolted. “Son of Louis de France?”

Louis nodded, expecting the negotiations, or the torturing, or his killing, to begin. 

Marie instead asked, out of what seemed to be genuine curiosity and confusion, “how did you end up here?”

"I—I promise it was an accident, I mistook your ship for my father’s—“ his cheeks reddened while he admitted such a stupid mistake. “—his ship is the _S.S. Carmel_. I panicked and hid below deck when I saw that the crew was not one that I recognized.”

“My goodness.” 

Louis tilted his head down in shame. "I'm sorry I stowed away on your ship! Are you going to kill me? I'm… I'm worth a lot as a hostage!” 

“Louis, to be honest, I don’t know what to do with you,” Marie said. She sighed and finally brought the food tray over. Hastily struggling against his binds, Louis leaned towards it. "I'm not gonna be kind enough to untie you,” she said. She picked up the mug of mead and gingerly pressed it against Louis’ lips. Despite how much he didn’t want to, he drank. Looking up at Marie, he noticed the contemplating expression on her face. His cheeks stayed warm. Couldn’t she just untie him instead of feeding him like a dog? 

The alcohol stung against his throat and he coughed. 

Marie then offered him the bread, letting him tear off a chunk of it with his teeth. She spoke as he chewed.

“You are on the _S.S. Caramel_. It looks like your father’s because I thought a ship that looks naval might deter the actual navy.” She had a matter-of-fact tone to her voice, as if she was proud of coming up with something like that.

Louis nearly coughed out the food. To think that he so royally messed up because of one letter. 

“Why—why that name? Besides the similarity,” he couldn’t help asking.

"I love sweets.”

“Oh.” 

Maybe that meant they had chocolate on this ship. Or even better: hot chocolate. 

“You really only ate two potatoes, didn’t you?”

“My father taught me not to steal. It would be akin to being a pirate.” 

Marie scoffed. “Even for your own livelihood? Do you think your father wouldn’t steal if he was in your position?” 

"I don’t know.” 

“Louis, I, well… I take pity on you.” Marie paused for a brief moment to brush off crumbs from Louis’ shirt. “We’ll be at sea for a long time, long before we can go back and negotiate a hostage situation. Do you know how to navigate? work the sails? clean the cannons?” 

Louis nodded, fervent, but couldn’t help thinking of his incapabilities when working his father’s fleet. 

“So you can be useful. Good. It would’ve left a terribly unfortunate taste in my mouth if I threw you over the edge of this ship, though. So I assume I would feel worse at the sight of a sword stuck through your stomach.”

Louis breathed a sigh of relief. 

“But I'm sure that my crew doesn’t feel the way and would be ready to kill at my command. and I'll just… look away,” Marie added. That made Louis feel a little worse. “However, assuming that you can do a fine job as a sailor, I’d like your help on this ship. We’re short on crewmen.”

"I can do that,” Louis replied quietly. 

“Good. Perhaps I can arrange work for you in a couple of days.” Marie sauntered around the room, adjusting the occasional chachki on the bed stands.

“Are you going to leave me here?”

"I… will also plan different living accommodations. I should talk to the crew. Anyway. I've seen those coats among the nobility. I've always admired their beauty. Did you choose it?”

“Yes.”

“A good choice.” She smirked. 

She then left. 

Louis shifted in his seat. He had an itch on his nose he couldn’t scratch and a nervous laugh in response to Marie’s smile that he couldn’t suppress. 

He had to admit—he liked her coat too. 

*****

“We now have a _dauphin_ ,” Woodbury snickered, smirking at Louis. Louis bit his lip. In a way, the cook wasn’t wrong. For the past week, Louis had been allowed to roam relatively free, given that he did his fair share of work around the ship. The crew must’ve come to the conclusion that he was harmless the moment they saw him trip on a mop bucket on the first day. 

To say the least, they tolerated him quite well considering he was a stowaway. 

Louis, on the other hand, had had a harder time adjusting. On top of the strange tradition of treating and addressing each other as nobility, he struggled with the jobs they gave him. However, his father would’ve gotten someone else to do it when he couldn’t or when he complained about work, but this crew, well, they were strangely patient. Plus, knowing that he’d get his head hacked off if he didn’t abide by their expectations was quite the motivation. Despite that, he was enjoying himself more than he had on any previous expedition. 

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of pirates were so kind. He needed to stay on guard, because was finding treasures really their own goal? Couldn’t they do that… without piracy? 

“ _Dauphin_?” Louis echoed, confused.

“Our _dauphine_ makes you follow her around all the time, and insists that you eat next to her during meals.” 

Louis looked at Marie. He supposed they’d started some sort of friendship? They drank mead together during afternoon breaks and most of his work had him within her vicinity. Marie sighed, exasperated. "I'm just trying to keep an eye on him.” 

Victoire raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure, _dauphine_? You keep his coat locked up in your bedroom throughout the day.” 

"It’s too nice of a piece of clothing to get dirty.” Marie hmmphed. “And I'm considering stealing it once we let him go. You can always get a replacement, can’t you?”

Louis nodded. 

The first mate raised his glass. “to the _dauphine_ and _dauphin_ ,” he joked. The rest of the crew clinked mugs and drank heavily. Louis managed a substantial swig of mead. 

After dinner and helping Woodbury wash the dishes, Marie returned Louis’ coat. He put it on. He couldn’t explain, but he felt safer with it on. 

“Come, I need your help with something.” 

She led him to the captain’s quarters. When they arrived, she crossed her arms and stared straight at a new painting above the bed frame. It displayed a landscape of a non-descript port town, with a sunrise on the horizon. "Is it centered?” 

Louis squinted. “Um, it’s a little tilted. To the left.” 

“Damn. Here, go on the other side, adjust it with me.” 

They straightened it out and looked at it again. Marie seemed satisfied. “Anybody else on this ship would’ve told me it looked fine. I figured you paid attention to details.” 

Louis laughed quietly. “My mother always made me thread her needles for her.” 

“Oh, very interesting. my mother told me to do the same.” She frowned and brushed some crumbs off of Louis’ shirt. He stopped stiffening when she did that when she made it clear a few days ago that the crumbs bothered her. “Well, that’s all I wanted.”

“Alright… _dauphine_.” he smiled.

“Oh no. Not you starting to do that too.” 

A stab of nervous energy cut through his gut. “Sorry. Do you not want me to?” 

"If you do it I won’t stop calling you _dauphin_. It’s your choice.” 

"I think I'll stick with Marie, then.” 

“Mm. Well, you should get some rest. Goodnight, Louis.”

“Goodnight, Marie.” 

*****

“Keep the coat on. You’ve got a rest day,” Marie said. She would’ve loved the help, but the thought of him helped her fall asleep last night, and that bothered her. They’d become too comfortable with their friendship and she didn’t need any distractions today. Besides, the past week’s smooth sailing made her uncomfortable, as if something bad had to happen to balance things out. 

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Sleep in or something.” 

The sentence made Louis yawn. "I guess I will. I'll see you this afternoon?” 

Marie nodded, absent-minded, already daydreaming about today’s tasks. 

The sun melted away the hours. Marie didn’t sit with Victoire as she did on most noons; instead, she drank her mead alone on the quarterdeck, her body leaning against the railing. Alas, Louis joined her despite her being away from the usual location. 

"It’s been a while since I’ve sat and just watched the landscape,” she lied. 

“Same. I always hated the sea.”

Marie scoffed. “Oh, how could you hate it?” 

"I hated naval expeditions.” 

“You must really hate this, then.”

“Surprisingly less. Your crew is… nice.” 

Marie laughed. “That’s a good compliment. For a pirate ship.” 

Silence enveloped them, which is what Marie wanted. At some point, Victoire joined them in the quiet. Marie took the moments to relish in the sound of the wind and the calm seas. She leaned further against the railing, laying her head down on her arms. 

She looked at Louis, staring straight ahead. 

...He was pale. “Marie.” he nudged her. 

“Yes? What?”

“There's a ship waving a friendly naval signal. They’re coming towards us. They think you’re my father’s ship.” 

“W h a t??” Marie’s hand went to the hilt of her cutlass. “Can we make them go away?” 

“No, _dauphine_ ,” Victoire said. “No matter what we do, they’ll find out we’re pirates.” 

Marie bit her lip. “Then ready the cannons,” she said, her voice so low that only Victoire and Louis could hear. “We’ll have the advantage if we ambush them.” Victoire nodded and ran to relay the command to the rest of the crew. 

“Wait, no, you shouldn’t hurt them—“ Louis started. 

“What choice do we have?” Marie bit back. 

“Maybe you can offer me up and we figure this out in a peaceful manner.” 

“There’s no guarantee they’ll do that.” 

Louis paused. "I don’t want you to sink that ship.”

“Neither do I. but my crew will be my priority.” A burning anxiety lit up in her chest. It quickened her heart rate. It made her fingers twitch. And she found a sense of deep-rooted responsibility for those that worked on her ship. "If you find the bloodshed too distasteful, then you can hide below deck.” 

The cannons fired and a deafening roar enveloped Marie and Louis’ conversation. The deck shook. 

Marie didn’t take much time to see the hurt on Louis’ expression, but she couldn't help but notice it. It didn’t matter. She turned away and sprinted towards the sails, ready to command.

*****

Louis had never been in a skirmish like this. And definitely never on the pirate’s side of battle—though he knew he didn’t want to stand around and stay here. What Marie said to him made his stomach sick. He understood her need to protect her own ship, but surely, they didn’t have to drown an entire crew and trigger the anger of the navy to do that. 

More cannons fired. The impact pushed Louis against the railing. He could hear the shouting coming from the enemy, to get their own cannons ready. At this point, the navy ship was turning, so they could get closer and board. 

Louis took a deep breath, a feeble attempt to calm down. Of course, he was still a hostage. He was still in the presence of pirates. He should’ve not forgotten that. 

He stayed above deck and waited while his anxiety overtook him in constant waves. He accepted the feeling. 

The moment the ships came into contact, the moment the ropes were being thrown down and the swords unsheathed for battle, Louis yelled for help, waving his hands in the air to get the attention of the naval officers. And to show that he was unarmed. He threw his hair back to make sure they could see the naval insignia. 

One of the naval soldiers had nearly stabbed him while he was trying to get to the other ship, but an officer stopped him. the officer then motioned for him to come over, quickly. Louis kept his hands up while doing so, making it hard to balance. He swayed, almost into an s.s. caramel crew member. Yet, miraculously, nobody noticed him trying to leave. 

The naval officer helped Louis over the railing and gripped him by the arm. “Your father’s put up quite the manhunt for you,” the officer said. “Come, it’s safer below deck.” 

“Wait—they want to negotiate me—“

“Then why’d they fire?” The officer scowled. 

Louis’ stomach dropped. He had… failed to consider that. “They—they wanted to get the upper hand first,” he lied. 

“Well, we’ve already got you. And we might as well sink this filthy ship while we’re at it.” 

Another hand grabbed him before he could respond. 

“You idiot, we should’ve locked you in the storage room,” Marie hissed. 

***** 

Marie shoved Louis aside (from what was presumably palpable frustration with him) and lunged towards the officer that had been holding him. He dodged with grace, then retaliated. Their swords clashed in a screech, metal against metal sliding closer and closer to their hilts. Knowing she’d lose strength faster, she feigned to the side, making the officer stumble forward and lose his balance. 

The trick didn’t keep the officer down. He lashed forward. Marie ducked. 

She miscalculated. 

The blade slid across the sleeve of her coat, leaving a stinging pain in its wake. 

No. It was fine. It wasn’t deep. 

She slashed. He dodged. She hopped towards him. Slashed. Dodged. Inch by inch, the officer was getting cornered against the railing. 

“Marie!” Louis called out. 

She turned, seeing him being dragged away by the captain. He was struggling, to no avail. 

Marie made the executive decision to leave the officer be and go for the captain. Somehow, he was easier to overpower. Probably because he bought himself into power? Probably. 

With one swift slash and kick to the stomach, Marie had her hands on Louis again and the captain keeling back. Louis picked up the cutlass the captain dropped.

“Release him!” the captain coughed out, making quite the effort to pull out his gun. 

Marie looked to Louis. Louis looked back at her. 

She decided Louis could go back to the Navy if he wanted to. But only if it guaranteed her own ship’s safety. 

Grabbing him by the collar, Marie backed up Louis against the railing. 

“What—“ he protested.

"If you shoot, I'm throwing him off,” Marie said to the captain. 

“wHAT?” Louis repeated. 

"I want to negotiate terms of peace,” Marie continued.

The captain bit his lip, considering the offer. Meanwhile, Marie tried to keep eyes on the battle; as far as she could tell, none of her crew seemed grievously injured. The officer stumbled towards the captain and they both gave death glares at Marie. 

At last, the captain spoke. “Let the boy fall. We’re killing her and her crew. She’s made an enemy of the Navy.” 

Oh. Marie was not expecting that.

She couldn’t dodge the gunshot that ensued, so she simply prayed that the captain’s aim was shit. 

*****

Louis had no choice but to push them both overboard unless they wanted more bullets fired at him. The catch was that he couldn’t swim. Oh, and he kinda just watched Marie’s blood fly past him when the bullet hit her arm. Which meant she couldn’t swim either. 

If Louis had the liberty to, he would’ve fainted by now. But instead, he sputtered out seawater and tried to keep afloat while looking for something to grab onto it. His right hand desperately grasped for a hold on a piece of floating wood or against the hull of the navy ship, while he kept his left hand held tight around Marie’s limp body. 

Finally, he found a hold on a groove on the side of the ship. The barnacles at the bottom of the ship scratched at his legs, and the seawater made them sting. On top of that, the heavy layers of his clothes bogged him down. 

The waves bounced against him, high enough to bog him down if he didn’t focus. Louis choked out more water.

After a few moments, a piece of driftwood fell from the cannons drifted by. He grabbed onto it too and tried to hoist Marie up onto it. He had no idea whether she was breathing or not, and he couldn’t imagine what the salt was doing to her wounds. Desperately, he tried to get her on the piece of wood. so at least she wouldn’t drown. 

Louis was too weak, and Marie too… limp. Why wouldn’t she wake up? He couldn’t do it, oh God, if she drowned because of him—

The fighting continued above. Louis bowed his head down to pray that everyone would survive this safely (especially him and Marie. Because by God he could imagine a million ways they could die). His anxiety got the better of him, though. He couldn’t focus. 

He shrugged off his coat instead and let it sink to the bottom of the ocean.

“Aye!” A voice called from above. 

God?

Woodbury. 

Louis blinked away the salt from his eyes to see Woodbury and Victoire lowering a ladder, just as a flurry of cannonballs shot from Marie’s ship and into the one he was holding onto. 

*****

“Oh, it’ll never feel the same again.” Marie held up her arm, in its sling. Regretful decision. Stings of pain ran up her arm and she cringed. "It’s healing well, though.”

Louis smiled. Marie could tell it was a forced one. 

The port town rose on the horizon. Three weeks at sea made Marie ache for land. “You still haven’t told me whether you were going to find your way back home,” she said. 

"I didn’t want to bother you while you were still bedridden.” 

"I heard you helped thread the needle for the medic,” Marie said.

“No one else could do it,” Louis replied quietly. 

"It’s all in the details, isn’t it? Now, come on, what’s your decision?”

"I don’t know. I miss the estate but I don’t miss the Navy. They’d probably interrogate me about the ship you guys took over.” 

Marie inhaled sharply. “Yeah, apologies about that.”

“No, no. They didn’t care if I drowned. They just wanted to kill you even when you wanted to offer peace.” 

“God. Don’t make me think about that.” 

Louis grimaced. “Sorry.” 

"It’s okay.” Marie knew deep down that she wanted him to stay, but didn’t let that thought surface to her conscious. 

"If I stay, the Navy won’t stop looking for me.”

“We’ll make up some rumor that you died, or went missing. You can change your hair and clothes. You can wear a mask or something.” Marie considered the number of times he’d mentioned his father. “Or not. It might be easier for you to return.” 

Louis jerked his head up. "I'll stay. And when we find the treasure I'll move to France and I'll buy my own estate.” 

Marie held back her excitement. She smiled. “You will?”

"I wanna go buy new coats with you,” he joked.

“Well, maybe we can supply ourselves with some hot chocolate and candies too.” 

Heat rose in both of their cheeks. 


End file.
